The Fine Lines
by The Story Lord
Summary: Luke Skywalker battles a brand new set of problems with the leftover Imperial Forces and rising number of Sith Lords, all only months after the Battle of Endor, or so they think. But the situation is far from what he thought it was. (This is my excuse to write tons of Luke angst and I'm not sorry.)
1. Beyond The Noise

Luke sat gazing out at the thousands of shivering stars from the co-pilot seat of the Millennium Falcon. They had won, at least technically they had. But more than joy, he felt a deep sense that a large part of him was missing. His father was dead. He remembered the funeral pyre burning bright into the dark. Murky shadows slinking by and by behind his back. Even if all that was months ago, it lingered. The memories were still fresh in his mind as if it were yesterday that it happened. He hadn't been able to tear his mind away from all of the events that took place, even if now, he _was_ a Jedi. The feeling simply would not go, and it bothered him more with nearly each passing second. Han had noticed something was off weeks ago, but only vaguely, yet several times, asked if everything was alright. He added that cocky half smile, and called him 'kid.' Perhaps hoping it would cheer up his friend, but it didn't. And even though Luke lied like his life depended on it, he caught a glimpse of disappointment on the smuggler's face with each lie. As if he knew. But it retreated before it was truly noticeable, and Luke didn't want to bring it up with him. He didn't want to talk about it.

Han entered the room wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead, pausing briefly to look at Luke. "Cheer up, kid. We can finally be on our merry way."

Luke spun slowly around in the chair to face him. "What makes you think I'm not cheery?" He teased playfully.

"Well you should be! You didn't have to tamper with that stupid engine again." He replied almost in a mutter.

"Well you're the one who blew a fuse jumping to hyperspace one too many times too fast. So it was your problem." Luke smiled sarcastically, but it still managed to look genuine and sweet. He had to force all his smiles these days. He was just too distracted. At least, he hoped that's all it was.

Han let out a grunt of dismissal and momentarily left the room. For a few more minutes, Luke wandered about in his thoughts. Meditating had not made them go away. In fact, it had made the problem worse. That had confused him, and he had not tried it again. Fearing it might decrease the quality of the situation even further. He didn't consult Leia or Han because, well, he didn't think they'd understand. Maybe they would think he was just clinging to things that he didn't want to let go. But he _did_ want to let go. He just wanted peace of mind and clear happiness.

The solution had not yet appeared to him, no matter how long he sat and thought, desperately staring at those far away stars.

"We're going home." Luke sighed the words to no one but himself.

"Sure are!" Han sat down in the seat next to his friend, who nearly jumped out of his skin at the reply.

"Han!" Luke punched him in the shoulder, and leaned back in the chair. "You scared me. I hate it when you do that..." He trailed off, returning to his relaxed state.

"Ow, thanks for the bruise. I was bein' nice." Han smiled to just himself, and rubbed his shoulder.

"Where's Leia?"

"Sleeping."

"Good, I thought she looked tired." He commented casually.

Han flicked a few switches, and took off on a straight course for Coruscant. The Jedi Temple had been rebuilt, and many Jedi brought back to life somehow. Luke suggested it could have been the force, but Han wasn't entirely convinced of that. Even so, it wasn't the most pressing matter to either of them at that moment.

The Millennium Falcon landed on the ground, and Luke was out the door as soon as it opened. But he didn't walk in the direction of the Temple, rather, he just walked into the endless cityscape that flashed and wailed around him. The noise managed to drown the thoughts in his head, and he found a particularly noisy place to stand outside of. People from all different reaches of the galaxy passed him by, thinking little of it. There was peace in the noise, and that was all he needed to stay there for hours past midnight. But it hadn't occurred to him that Han would wonder where he'd disappeared to, and perhaps worry for his safety. Even if, yes, he _was_ a Jedi.

He heard his holo-comm buzzing but didn't pick it up. He fell back into the noise and it felt like a wave of static, and as he closed his eyes he heard a man's voice. Strangely familiar, yet he'd never heard it before.

"Luke!" The voice called.

He spun around looking for the source, but there was no on in no one in particular who caught his eye, just the crowd of strangers. Still bustling about in the washed out music pumping through the air. Hoping that it was his imagination, he returned his gaze to the skyline. The sun had begun to rise, but only faintly. A light blue caressed the edges of the horizon, caught between the buildings that rose high into nowhere.

His holo-comm buzzed again, and he took proper notice of it this time. He stepped away from the crowd and the noise before answering it. It was Han.

" _Luke?_ Where are you? I've been lookin' all over!" Worry quivered in Han's voice, but he masked it in a tone that almost sounded like it was meant to be a joke.

"Don't worry about me, I'm okay. I was just getting a breath of fresh air." He said it with a calmness that seemed to brush any problems out of sight and mind.

"Well, fine. But you've been gone for too long. Leia's worried. Get back here, kid."

Luke disconnected, and took one more breath of his surroundings. He didn't want to go back to the ship. He wanted to stay far from that hellish quiet for awhile. The distant echo of the strange voice clear in the air came back to him for a moment. Just a moment. Before the silence of the dark alleyway beckoned the rest of his thoughts, and it was lost in the multitude of them. It was one more thing he didn't want to think about.

Pulling the cloak over his head, he walked leisurely back to where the ship had been resting. This planet had been called "home" because the Temple was here with him, but really, he _was not_ home. This place was a city in which he could never be found if he so wished. It's lights and towering structures made him feel so small that it was comforting. But he didn't know where home was. Once, home had been on Tatooine. And once more, for a short time, it had been a station on Hoth. Now, he had no place to call "home." No place to hide all his thoughts. No place to wake up and see the daylight streaming in through thin glass windows. His world was black and gray. The colors of space and machines. Just months ago, these new problems would have seemed pathetic at best. But each one of them felt like a stone on his shoulders, and they kept piling up and forming mountains.

This weight was a burden that he feared, would lead to something greater and more terrible. But how could he be rid of it? Meditation had not worked. He wished more than ever that Obi-Wan Kenobi, or "Ben" as he knew him, was there by his side. He wanted to hear old Ben speak, and put his hands on his shoulders and tell him that everything would be okay. To tell him what to do. And as soon as he thought it, the voice from before cried out to him again.

"Luke!"

He spun around, looking every which way. But there was no one. Not even a pale phantom appeared to guide his eyes. Instead he was met with a brisk breeze, and his gaze fell on the Millennium Falcon. Suddenly, he felt very uneasy and quickly climbed aboard the ship.

Han met him in the doorway to the pilot's controls in one swift movement. "Not so fast!"

Luke leaned back on his heels, and planted a fist on his hip. But his motions were seemingly gentle.

"Why not?" He inquired peaceably.

"Where were you, huh?" He looked down at his shorter friend, and tried to hide the fact that he had been ridiculously worried about him. It wasn't often that Luke ignored transmissions from Leia or himself.

"I told you, Han. I was just getting some fresh air. I thought you'd be asleep when I got back, honestly."

"We thought that maybe, just maybe, you were dead in a ditch." He muttered barely audibly with a sour, sarcastic expression.

Luke rolled his eyes, "C'mon, I'm fine. You should get some sleep. You've been working on ship repairs since this evening." Shooing him along, he took notice of the feeling stirring in his gut. The uneasiness was getting worse. It was quickly manifesting into a sense of dread.

He forced himself to ignore the feeling long enough to wrestle Han to his quarters for a round of much needed sleep. Luke knew that he also needed the sleep, and reassured Han that he would go to bed. And he did. But he couldn't close his eyes without horrible images of fire and molten rock flashing across his mind. Images he had never known to be in his subconscious. Sleep did come to him, but it had not been pleasant.

He carried the dread into his rest, and woke at noon with a sudden jolt of his body. Eyes wide and heart racing, his skin crawled and burned with an unusual intensity. The sensation faded after a few moments and he was left sitting up in bed, confused and shaken. He hadn't had a nightmare in so long. Not since he completed his training on Dagobah. But this felt different somehow. It didn't feel like a dream. It felt like it was a piece of history, trapped in his head, clawing to get out. Trying to go home.

He didn't understand the torrid flames and dark landscape that seemed to have no end or beginning. The voice had called out, but not for him. This time, it called no names. But it cried out in agony, as if the voice's heart had been scorched by the heat and torn open.

The memory of those cries haunted him through the day, and into the next. He dared not sleep that night. He was thoroughly confused by the experience. Still hoping, that it wasn't going to lead to something awful. But every time he tried to believe it, a feeling of momentary dread washed over him and he drifted in a state of unrest for days afterwards. Then the visit to Coruscant was deemed over, with their supplies replenished and their ship running just perfectly again. Han was excited to leave, and they headed to what would be a Rebel base on Corellia. The three of them had decided to fight what was left of the Imperial Forces across the galaxy. But not only that. Since the rise of the Jedi, there had been a rising of the Sith as well. They now flourished in nearly every star system one could think of.

However, Luke was worried about his thoughts, Han and Leia were worried about Luke, and a whole heap of freshly brewed problems had fallen into their lap when they returned to the Rebel base on Corellia.


	2. Into The Unbeknownst

As soon as they stepped off the ship, their eyes fell on the burning remnants of the once fully operational Rebel base. Scorched trees, dark and devoid of foliage still reaching their jagged branches over the bodies scattered about in the trampled grass. They had seen the white smoke from a distance, but remained hopeful until they could see what had happened. Some of the bodies were not entirely intact, and most were burnt beyond recognition. The few who weren't, displayed a horror on their faces that was difficult to look at.

' _Sith. It was the Sith._ ' Luke thought to himself. He could feel the lingering chill of the dark side hanging in the air. Leia seemed to feel it as well, and he met her gaze as a wind full of smoke blew past them and stung their eyes. The sight reminded him of his Aunt and Uncle. It felt as if he were beginning the universe's terrible reprise.

"God da-" Han choked on his curses before he could get them out, and angrily kicked a rotten branch, concealing his upset expression from his friends with the quick movement.

Leia looked away into the daylit forests, still alive with the colors of spring and bursting with rolling hills of vibrant blooms. Meadows swaying close to the magnificent clusters of ancient trees. The sweet scent of her surroundings proved vague under the suffocating billows of smoke. She pulled her shirt up over her nose and held it with her hands in a way that made it seem she were about to say a prayer.

Luke walked away from the ship and the charred remains of the rebels he had spoken to just weeks ago. It was clear that there were no survivors. The stench of death was heavy, and its weight was something he did not want to bare. But it had fallen into their hands, just as so much had the past few years. He had become someone entirely new. He wasn't the same. The image of a farm boy sighing under the sunset, wishing with all his heart that he could fly far, far away, seemed like the distant memory of someone else. It was no longer the Luke Skywalker that he now knew himself to be.

All of this was very exhausting, and his lack of sleep had made him want to crawl back in bed. If only he wouldn't be met with the same strange nightmare as before. But crawling into the sheets again, cozy and warm, still wouldn't solve the disaster that they had stumbled upon. But why would the Sith attack a Rebel base in the middle of nowhere, who posed no harm to anyone but the Imperial Forces? They were too small to take on the Sith. After all, that was a Jedi's job. So who were they looking for? Him? Him and his sister, Leia? He pushed the thoughts out and listened to the noise the creatures of the forest were making. It was too much. It was far too much in that moment.

He sat down on his knees in the grass, the soft wind rustling by through the bright emerald blades.

"You're a Jedi now, and have been for a long time," Luke spoke to himself. "Why is it that you're still afraid of dreams and the dark?"

And then when he said it, he felt a sudden sensation rush through his veins. His body burned as if he had fallen into a pit of raging flames. As if it were hot coals instead of blood in his heart. He let out a short but terrible scream before he was silenced by the absence of breath. Han and Leia heard the sudden cry, and rushed out to find Luke. By the time they found where he had wandered off to, he was already unconscious on the grass. Once knowing that he was okay, they carried him back to the ship in a flurry of confusion. Today already hadn't been a good day for any of them, and they didn't need another problem.

Han hoped that this wasn't related to whatever his friend could be hiding from him, and quite frankly, he was tired of it. He'd tried. He really did. Maybe to most, it didn't seem like much of an effort, but it was. He asked, he waited, he offered. Luke ignored, Luke avoided, Luke denied. What could he do? Make him tell him? Obviously not. Luke could wave his hand, and with a few words, have Han busying himself with anything else but that. He had no clue as to why he wouldn't talk. He was usually so open and words just rolled off his tongue like steady drops of dew. Just recently, things weren't the same. After the Battle of Endor, it seemed like everything was going to end real well. Then the mood shifted. He felt it in the air the day it happened. Luke had come back from somewhere out in the mess of galaxies and god knows where. He had this look on his face. His skin paler than than a blanket of snow, and his expression just as frozen. ' _It was like he'd seen God.'_ Han thought. He remembered how slowly Luke had taken his steps to the ship, and how this heaviness hung in the air when he came onboard. Leia had felt it, and for whatever reason, said nothing. But her expression gave away her curiosity and worry, even though Luke expressed that the mission went well.

Han sighed, looking down at Luke lying on his bed. He looked uninjured. So whatever made him scream like that, he figured it had something to do with that secret of his. Leia left the room to accompany Chewie in the bridge. They needed to get off the ground, in case whomever caused the disaster came back.

Han sat in silence for a moment, before realizing an odd sensation in his skin. It riddled with goosebumps as a bone-aching chill embraced his body. He tried to stand up in alarm, but the cold seemed to freeze him in place. Then his eyes fell on Luke, and he couldn't tear them away. His friend laid there, body tensed as if some invisible force were holding him down, but his eyes were clamped shut, his fists shook and his knuckles turned white. His whole body quivered with the strain. His breath seemed to quicken and then catch. Han felt such a great sense of dread when he heard Luke take that last breath and stop. He tried to call out to Leia to help them, but his own voice seemed to be stolen from his throat. He could only watch as Luke finally took a gasping breath, and his eyes shot wide open.

" _Ben!_ " Luke cried in anguish, sitting up with a jolt.

Han felt the warmth come back into his body, and his skin tingled but he could move. "Luke! What's wrong? What is it? Tell me!" He demanded. He hadn't the faintest idea what just happened. All he knew was that he didn't like it. Luke looked around frantically for a moment, then fell into a calm that was unnerving. "It must have been a bad dream." He started. "I've been getting a lot of them lately and I-" Luke stopped himself before he could share anymore. ' _Oh great. I've said too much now._ '

Han surveyed Luke's eyes for any sign of continuing. But his friend only avoided his gaze and made for the door. ' _How can I help you? What can I do? Is there anything at all?_ ' That was what he wanted to say, but instead he just asked, "Bad dreams?" It came out sounding more doubtful than inquiring. Luke stood still in the open doorway, with one arm up on the frame. Something inside him screamed, ' _No! Don't tell him!_ ' He wanted it to stop. He wanted it to all just go away. He wanted so badly to pull away again, to leave his friend in silence, without answers. Every fiber of being being told him, ' _Leave._ ' But, this was wrong, wasn't it?

' _How can I keep him in the dark like this? It's wrong! I shouldn't._ '

But what had just happened? He couldn't ignore the fire he saw when his eyes closed, the burning in his veins, and the horrible cries that still belonged to no face in particular. That something deep inside him screamed and screamed until it was obeyed. ' _No! No! Don't tell him! Say nothing! Go! Leave!_ ' Luke was torn between what he thought was right and what he knew was wrong. But the truth always hurts, so he said nothing and hid away in a part of the ship where Han couldn't find him. Where Leia wouldn't look, and where Chewie couldn't fit. He had fled from the room with such speed that Han couldn't get a glimpse of him by the time he stumbled to the door. His legs still weak from the strange paralysis.

Luke shifted through a mess of cooling pipes and took a seat between them. He had so many questions. Though all he wanted to do was ignore these thoughts, these feelings, he knew he couldn't do it forever. Something had to be done about them. He didn't know why he had called out for Ben a few moments ago. ' _Instinct_.' He supposed. ' _Even after all this time._ ' It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide and control how he was feeling. And all he wanted at this point was to hear old Ben's voice call back to him. He needed that comfort, and yes, it was a long time since he had died. Far too long to be upset this much. In those seconds, Luke realized his lack of control over his emotions. It had been deteriorating for months. Had he finally broken down? Was this it? He supposed he was being dramatic. ' _I'm still a Jedi. I can still do this._ '

A noise outside in the hall stirred him into motion. He crept between the darkest recesses of the ship to avoid being found by Leia, cowering between cooling pipes. It would be an embarrassing encounter for them both. At this point, he knew Han had either given up or told Leia and Chewie what happened. Likely, it was the latter. And he'd rather not be stalked and caught like some scurrying rat in the walls. He had to preserve his dignity.

With a little effort, he made his way back to the storage room and rested behind crates of supplies meant for the Rebel base they had left behind. Yet the image of the dead kept at bay, allowing something older and stranger to haunt him. It was the fire. The voice. He sensed that it was of some importance, but why, he couldn't say. For many minutes, he didn't dare to think past the borders of what he'd witnessed for himself. But as he thought, no answers could be derived from the known.

He began to meditate.

He could feel the force rush through him like a steady stream of water. Seconds slowed to minutes as he searched for answers. At first, nothing but the gentle empty pallet of meditation; then there appeared wavelengths of energy across a black expanse. Solidifying his concentration, the energy began to take the image of two moving forms on a strange uncolored landscape. The forms were of men, dark silhouettes. They were fighting each other. Their movements slowed, as if underwater. There was a dim blue glow somewhere inside both of them. But as they fought, the glow within one of the men faded and disappeared. The fight had ended then. Though no sound came, no voices were heard, Luke knew they were crying out to each other. One man in hatred, and one man in grief. The emotions and the silhouettes blended into the energy, birthing a new scene from the madness: the funeral of Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader. The pyre that burned bright into the night sky, erasing the evidence of them both.

Luke saw himself standing with a torch in front of flames colored blue, in this dimension of the force. Then once again, the energy changed and became an image of a singular man's silhouette. It gestured into the black, as if to ask, "do you see it?" But there wasn't anything to see. Then another man appeared beside him, and he tried desperately to explain something, gesturing to himself and then the other man, and finally into the black. But the message was incredibly vague. What was he supposed to see? Who were these men? What was the force trying to tell him?

Suddenly, the door to the storage room opened with a hiss,yanking Luke out of his meditation as he sensed Leia's presence. The crates surrounding him were an insufficient barrier. He could sense her concern from galaxies away.

" _Luke?_ " Leia called softly but strongly. It was more of a heads up than a sign that she didn't know where he was. She could feel his distress emanating from behind an 8 foot high stack of supply crates. Han had left the questioning up to her, since he hadn't made any progress with Luke. It had been so long, both of them trying to squeeze the truth out of her brother for months. This last incident, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. She was going to get an answer from him, even if it was just one word and it had to be knocked out of him.

Luke came out from behind the crates, his eyes lowered to the ground and his fingers tangled in his hair. "Leia," He whispered, "I'm sorry."

Leia watched as her brother apologized twice over for the events in the past months. But he gave no explanation for his behavior. After several seconds of silence, she asked, "why?" The question sent a shiver down his spine, and he crossed his arms, unsure what to do with them.

"I don't know," He finally said. "Nothing has been clear."

Leia lunged forward, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Luke, you've got to do better than that! You've kept us in the dark! Am I not your _sister?_ And _Han_ is your _best friend_! We need to know, we _need_ to!" The sudden burst of aggression caught Luke off guard.

Forced to look her in the eyes, he saw the worry and hurt take a physical place on her lashes. It prompted him to relay all the mysterious happenings these recent months. Yet, there still wasn't an explanation for any of it. There was no certainty of anything, and the meditation revealed so much and somehow so, so little. It reminded Luke of Yoda. Yet with Yoda, there was always an answer at the end. With this, Luke wondered if there would ever be an _answer_ , or if it would even ever _end_.


End file.
